Donato's Planet Hopping Adventures!
Game Master donato

"In that case, please let me know if I ever anger her."

Celia's eyebrows furrowed. She ached to use one of her deity's blessings to make her movement more feasible; she could be through these obstacles right quickly.

Entaro, who's been rather quiet lately, perhaps because he is so shocked at the machinery the likes of which he has never witnessed before, finally pipes up to urge the group onward. "Perhaps we should move forward. If Keth is needed to power some aspects of our suit, it would be wise to find a way to bring him back as soon as possible." Entaro pulls out his whip, unsure of whether the thing will even be of use against machines, and starts to climb the circle dead robots.

Booker's keeping up with Celia, scrambling over wreckage, and keeping an eye out in the scrapyard for trouble. "Oh I doubt you will. You're a cleric of that drunk god, right? He's got that in common with the Monkey King. We can drink to 'em, assuming we ever get out of here and find a tavern. Entaro, I'm certainly hoping we can get through this and find whatever it is we're looking for to get off this rock and get out of here as quick as possible."

perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

In any other religion, calling someone's deity 'that drunk god' would cause that person to flip out. However, perhaps one of the greatest aspects of Cayden Cailean's worship is that one is not compelled to care that much.

"His name is Cayden Cailean, and even if there is no tavern, we'll get some spirits eventually."

Marshall clambers over the wrecked machines with the rest of the group, careful about sharp edges that could tear his suit but seemingly heedless of the razor sharp short sword in one hand.

"Tavern would be nice but all I want is somewhere I can take off the damnable helmet and have my pipe. I feel all itchy without it."

Right, Booker just isn't really that smart and certainly isn't very pious, and isn't great with words.

No, it's fine. I'm still in 'book rper' mode. Sorry.

"Come to think of it, when was the last time any of us slept?"

Valai chuckles. "How about 'never'?" she says.

By the way, a question: Is there a comprehensive sourcebook for the lands that Booker comes from, the ones where this Monkey King is worshiped?

Dragon empires gazzetteer has the most info on Sun Wukong (which still isn't much) and the setting. The dragon empires primer has a bit more. Booker himself is from the River Kingdoms in the inner sea though and only knows about the monkey king from a book he stole.

I guess I'm having a bit of trouble understanding. Is everyone on the move or just Celia?

No, no, I'm definitely following her. In fact, Valai is following her very precisely, so she doesn't step on anything sharp, shaky or otherwise unpleasant, herself. ;)

Entaro has started across the pile of machines as well.

And I know Booker's up there.

Yeah, Booker is all over the place but is generally matching their progress.

Valai chuckles. "How about 'never'?" she says.

"Do you really mean that? Oh, dearie me... Can't even imagine what that's like."

Feel free to assume that Boodka is travelling along with the group if I don't post otherwise. Don't let me saying 'me too' hold up the game.

Boodka follows along with the group, thinking that this is a very strange place, and every now and then hitting something that looks breakable with his Earthbreaker.

1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22 Perception

"Do you really mean that? Oh, dearie me... Can't even imagine what that's like."

"Fair enough. I cannot imagine what it would be like to inoluntarily lose consciousness every day of my life," Valai replies.

Perception check (looking and listening for danger): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18

"At least I have a consistent sleep schedule."
Celia grinned with her own retort, obviously having no ill will behind it.

Valai shrugs. "My downtime is also consistent. Eight hours of meditation and mental organization in every twenty-four hour period. I am simply not 'asleep' as you define it."

They made their way over the machine corpses, eventually reaching barren land again. Heading towards the center of the fields, they continued for a few miles. At this point, there was a stirring in Booker's pocket. From within, Keth flew out, active once again.

"Howdy there little fella, have a nice nap?

"Oh," Valai says, eyeing the little machine. "Hmm. Since you are once again active, Keth, kindly repeat what you were telling us when you started to suffer the effects of the radiation. This time without the buzzing, hmm?"

"Of course, Lady Valai." Keth's voice, while still both childish and robotic, sounded now more human than mechanical. "There appears to be a ring of radiation from the center of the Fields of Justice. The type radiation is both unknown and also from an unknown source. In this area in the field, the radiation has decayed, presumably from lingering for years."

Keth turns back towards the ring of Aballonians.

"The radiation seems to be processed by the Aballonians in a manner that shuts down their circuitry. Also, any remaining energy in their body at the time is converted into this type of radiation and released as a final act. The ring around the field is self sustaining from the looks of it. It may be that all Aballonians are created in a method that incorporates this process as a sort of failsafe to prevent entrance into the deeper sections of the Fields."

"You referenced the 'First Ones' and some sort of danger before," Valai says. "Explain."

"Yes, there appear to be signs of First One technology farther in the fields. It may be that the technology would enable us to leave this planet and continue our journey. As for the danger, scans also show other constructs in the area that could be potentially hostile. They appear to be a combination of Aballonian and First One technologies. Unfortunately, I know nothing about these beings and cannot guarantee their attitude towards outsiders."

He flies before Valai.

"Any other questions?"

"Can you give us an early warning when such hybrid constructs approach us?" Valai asks. "If so, do so. On another note: How do you classify yourself?"

Oh, no! Celia I meant to type First ONE, not World. I've edited the post. Sorry for the hope/confusion/scare.

No hay problema.

"I'll do my best to warn in time."

At the second inquiry, Keth turns lightly on his side, almost like a person's head would turn.

"Classify myself? What do you mean?"

Celia paused to take in the surroundings. Her feet were a tad bit sore, though she loved the travelling-less so than when she did it with a buzz, but it was still enjoyable.

Perception=1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14

The surroundings are all too familiar. There is nothing but dirt and metallic dust in every direction. However, farther west, just at the edge of the horizon, the ground seems to dip slightly.

Celia looked at her companions.
"Do you think we can make it to that dip before we need to rest?"

"I'll do my best to warn in time."

At the second inquiry, Keth turns lightly on his side, almost like a person's head would turn.

"Classify myself? What do you mean?"

"What are you? What is your purpose?" Valai asks. "What makes you work?"

"Well, I'm-"

Keth shuts down and collapses to the ground. After a minute, he starts up and floats back up to his previous height.

"How can I help you Lady Valai?"

"You can remember something, Keth," Valai says after a moment of silent consideration. "Whatever you may be, your master is an utter bastard."

"No, he's just-"

Keth shuts down and restarts as before.

"How can I help you Lady Valai?"

"Kindly keep watch for the Aballonian/First One hybrids and warn us if any of them approach us," Valai says, eyes closed in an expression of supreme annoyance.

To the others, she says: "Shall we continue?"

Booker quirks an eyebrow at Keth. "Glad I don't do that, that'd get mighty inconvenient. We need to get you some help, little buddy."

"Yeah, let's head out. I'm certainly up for the walk."

"As am I, but just a reminder that we shouldn't push ourselves too hard."

"Yes, let us move." Entaro continues onward, heading toward the dip.

During the next foot of the journey, Celia couldn't help but make smalltalk with any companion that would listen; mostly probing them for what they enjoy doing, and what would make this day even weirder, etc.

"You know, little lady, if any monster's made of spare parts do come looking for us, we're gonna have a hard time hearin' 'em. All due respect, of course. We all deal with stress different. Maybe you could try a quieter one, though? I hear cat's cradle is fun."

"You have a point." Celia admitted closing her lips and staring ahead. She wouldn't much enjoy this silence, but surviving was important.

"Keth, which senses are the hybrids most likely to use to locate us and how large are they likely to be?" Valai asks without looking at either Celia or Quentin.

"Senses would vary. Anything from optical sensors and magical sonar to more advanced technologies that we are not aware of."

"Feel free to speak, Celia," Valai says. "If we are fated to meet these hybrids, all the sneaking and silence in the world will not be able to prevent it."

"Oh, thank the foam-tips... I thought I was going to have to spend the rest of this walk in silence."

Celia let out a quick laugh, and then continued walking, but with less speech than the first time. Less, mind, and not without speaking.

Booker engages in smalltalk! 1d20 ⇒ 19

Booker performs uncharacteristically well at this and regaled anyone who will listen with amusing anecdotes from when he was just a wee monkey, growing up with a small troupe of lovable rapscallions in the river kingdoms, learning the finer points of salvaging barges and their cargos despite common objections from their previous owners.

On a sudden inspiration, Valai casts Detect Magic and starts scannning the group's environment. 'I might as well see what I can learn as long as I'm here...'

While looking around, the Elf's eyes fall on Boodka's homely face, and she raises an eyebrow -- then addresses him: "Are you of the Belkzen Holds?"